


Nobody Better For It

by Lucyemers



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Depression, Marriage, Post-Season/Series 01, implied/reference ptsd, paternal fred thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6764605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucyemers/pseuds/Lucyemers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've made a huge mistake."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Better For It

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short Thusdays bit that I wrote for the prompt "I've made a huge mistake" on Tumblr. Set in between seasons 1 and 2. Concerns "that drink" that Win mentions in the first episode of season 2.

“I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Thursday had always meant to “leave it at the door.” Some days were easier than others. Tonight it had been harder. Just the crinkle in Win’s eyes had been enough to disarm him. He hadn’t wanted to bring his worry home to her. But it was probably because she didn’t ask how the evening went, because she allowed so little expression to cross her face that she broke his resolve.

The ones we love most have a knack for that, he thought ruefully (and gratefully), they knowing when there’s something that needs to be heard by a sympathetic ear.

He supposed if he vehemently followed his own advice that tonight he didn’t have to leave “it” at the door at all as “it”, strictly speaking, was not work. When he wearily hung his hat on the peg and shrugged off his coat a few moments earlier he had been returning late not from work but from a drink, but it was work related, if he was going to be technical. Morse had been in town looking into a few promising flats that he might rent when he concluded his time away while recovering from a gunshot wound and, no doubt, suffering in abject boredom.

Thursday had only known he was in town when he’d seen him in Bright’s office going over some casualty paperwork of the sort that had him acknowledging the fact that the station would not be held responsible for the loss of his former position should he fail to pass as “fit for duties” in his upcoming physical. Thursday knew he would be glad to see him return, but had been genuinely surprised by the worry he had felt upon seeing the lad unexpectedly. This had prompted him to ask him with forced casualness if he fancied a pint.

And so here he was. “I’ve made a huge mistake”, he’d blurted out. And then the flood gates opened, “They wouldn’t have allowed him back to the station so soon if I hadn’t given the go ahead, and after tonight it’s clearly too soon. He’s still limping in the damp air and drank more and faster than I’ve ever seen him do.” Win took his hands and steered him to the sofa.She sat down and tugged him along with her so they were hip to hip as he continued, “he started at the slightest thing and looked so far away all at the same time. It’s…it’s like the light’s gone out of his eyes.”

“He’s been in the wars”, she said simply. When Thursday didn’t respond. She added, “sometimes you move on because it’s all you can do.” She paused. “Remember? After Mickey Carter? And before that after…” She didn’t go on. They didn’t talk about it it much, but he knew what she meant: after the war. He’d been through the wars as well, quite literally.

“I’m not saying it’s easy” she finished. “But he probably needs to work like…” She lightly cupped his face in her hand and ever so slightly rubbed his cheek with her thumb. “Like you did.” She finished.

He took her hand, gently but quickly kissed her palm, and let it fall into his lap.

“You’ll see him through it, Fred.” Her voice was returning to it’s usual joviality that was his daily assurance of safety and hope. “There’s nobody better for it than you.”

He could only hope she was right.


End file.
